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The last regent

Author: admin

Eighty and active, Dr Karan Singh is an emblem of a bygone time of elegance, poise and erudition, discovers Sudha G Tilak

 
Driving on a monsoon evening down the boulevards of Delhi where the rich and powerful live evokes a feeling awash with grandeur and a sense of past glory. Cultural and spiritual ambassador, elder statesman, scholar and pundit of Sanskrit and Hindi literature, India’s last titular regent of the former princely state of Jammu and Kashmir, 80 year-old Dr Karan Singh exudes a mellow aura despite his many titles and achievements.

He is dressed for the evening in grey trousers and shirt, his trademark velvet cap perched on his head. His conversation is punctuated with recitation of verses in Urdu and Sanskrit and a sense of humour. He is a picture in poise as he poses in his courtyard besides a cerulean indoor pond for the photographer. It’s the first house he “built” to live in Delhi and has been his home in the capital city for over 50 years, he remarks with a hint of pride. With the passing of his wife, the home is where he spends his time in contemplation, his public engagements with many endowments and charitable organisations, his affiliation with many societies and government bodies for the upkeep of educational and cultural trusts he supervises. His commitment to being a cultural ambassador on national and international forums and as one who partakes of the vast and immense field of India’s cultural heritage, its languages and education is deep and abiding.

As dusk falls, crickets sing in the grass and a peacock’s call pierces the sky. Karan Singh, the last living regent of India, looks back on the path he has traversed through India’s last days of monarchy to democracy. Excerpts from an exclusive interview:

Born in 1931, you are the last ruler of the princely state of Jammu and Kashmir. What are the burdens and privileges you carry?

Genetics contributed to my title [laughs]. Though made a regent, luckily I was never a ruler. My father Maharaja Hari Singh was the last ruler. I was 16 when India achieved Independence and by 18, I was proclaimed regent. With my training in Doon—it was not the elitist school it is called today—and with the winds of democracy ushered in, I found it natural to adopt an egalitarian view.

What were the lessons you learnt from your father?

Can I talk about my mother first?

Please, do so.

My mother was from the small village of Bijaypur. She continued to have her old connections even after entering the royal household and when I was born. Her prayer and cultural rituals like performing the arati, the circumambulation for the tulsi plant, her prayer and festival rituals all left a deep image in me as a boy. I could say I learnt bhakti from her. The moral universe of her piety insisted on helping the disadvantaged. She would always tell me to help the poor. In retrospect, I’d say it was perceptive of her to instil this value of working for the public good. Instead of growing up as a spoilt royal, she insisted I retain the common touch and help the needy. Speaking in a courteous manner to royal or common alike and helping others were valuable human lessons I received from her. And, of course, my musical ear and love for sound and language evolved in her arms. I learnt Dogri language and folk songs that she sang on festive occasions once a week for the special puja. I have on occasion accompanied her singing and played the dholki and performed at festivals. Growing up in her shadow left a deep imprint on me. Perhaps the seeds for my pursuit of music, education, language were sown by her at a tender age.

And your father?

My father was the maharaja. There was a formality with which we all saw him. I learnt discipline and commitment to work from him. I remember once when I was but 14, he asked me to undertake a small errand. When I summoned the secretaries to convey his order, he stopped me saying, ‘No, Tiger, you do it.’ He was a neat person and did not tolerate clumsiness. He was organised, liked to keep his surrounding free of clutter, and disliked messy spaces. I guess I have tried to follow these good habits.

To what do you owe your persistent thirst for education and your pursuit of scholarship? So unlike a royal, born to the manner and privileges, is it not?

I still can’t put a finger on that. It was unusual for royalty to pursue education. I was told my grandfather was a scholar. While my father ascended the throne early on, I was able to pursue college, my doctorate and write my books. This [spreading his hands around his charming library stacked with bookshelves] is where I seem to belong. My university record remains unbroken. I became the chancellor of JK University from where I graduated! I can recite Sanskrit, Dogri, Urdu and can pick up languages. I think my learning is owing to a strong aural felicity that allowed me to pick music, sound and languages. My father was keen on me learning classical music and was strict about my riyaz. When the palace tutors came in, I recall I took to music like a fish to water. I think I owe it to Panditji [Nehru] who guided me to a life of learning besides princely pursuits of just playing polo, shikar and fancy society. I read and read and my mind was enriched by the Greek philosophers, the writers of those times like Russell, Huxley, Shaw, Dumas; The Scarlet Pimpernel remains a favourite. Panditji and [Sarvepalli] Radhakrishnan took an avuncular interest in my mentorship. Panditji was my political guru; Radhakrishnan, my intellectual one.

Your father’s friendship with Pandit Nehru and your association with the Nehru family runs deep, doesn’t it?

My relationship with Panditji and his family runs deep and through generations. My letters to Panditji and Indira have been published and are public material. Indira was like an elder sister to me. Of course, our relationship went through its strains in the aftermath of the Emergency and the split in the Congress. I told her what I rightly felt in my letter and sent her my resignation. And later, I made up with her. Rajiv and Sonia revived the bonds.

How was your marriage to the late Yasho Rajya Lakshmi? It seems removed from the hoopla of fancy designer weddings of the rich and famous.

She was 13 and I was 19. You could say we grew up together. I still remember the day we were married in Bombay at 1, Napean Sea Road and the baarat went up the Napean Sea Road to the Kutch Castle where the wedding took place. Through our 60 years of marriage we were a great support to each other, though I think it must have been more difficult for her, coming as she did from a large family. She coped well and was a great help in my public programmes. I always think I got more votes when I contested for the elections because the women would come to see her, drawn as they were to her beauty. She took on many responsibilities including working as the chairman of the Welfare Board for the Mentally Handicapped and many other posts.

You were born in Cannes, in France, and came to India. However, I believe you were dogged by ill health since the age of 13. You were immobilised then and yet again after an accident a few years later, just nine days after being appointed regent. How did you deal with the pain?

It was my last year in Doon when I suffered shooting pain in my hip. Even my father noted the limp when I visited home. It must have been a problem with the hip joint. Anyhow, local medications didn’t help and I was immobilised and confined to bed in June 1947 for six months.

It was Sardar Patel who, during a visit to my father, saw me and advised my father to send me to America for medical help. I was operated upon, the joint was fixed, and all through the time I played chess, watched TV. I still remember I had to lean on my sword as a prop for the saat phera at my wedding [chuckles]. Again a few months after I was appointed regent I had an accident and was bedridden. The experience taught me that we can allow such impediments to break us or make us. It helped me develop an inner strength at a young age.

You were appointed the regent when you were 18. Do you remember the day and the feelings in you? And what were the important orders you signed?

I suppose I felt euphoric as it was such a dramatic ceremony. I signed the order dismissing Sheikh Abdullah and, of course, the signing of the state constitution after it became law.

You voluntarily surrendered your privy purse and were the only regent to do so. It was a big decision. What prompted that move?

I was 36 and was in Mrs Gandhi’s cabinet. I thought it was one of the last vestiges that ought to go and Mrs Gandhi found it populist. Looking back, I think it was brave of me to be the lone one to do so and it was a matter of a few crores then. I defended my position in Parliament saying it was in favour of a free and democratic country. Of course, it made the other royals angry.

You are a believer in a global interfaith movement. Why is it important to you?

India is a country where nine major religions of the world are practised. I come from a Muslim majority state. I remember visiting Sufi shrines as a child. Rumi, Khalil Gibran and their music and verses evoked deep passions in me. At home, my mother had imbibed Hindu cultural sense in music and aesthetics. My ideas in philosophy were awakened by the great guru Aurobindo. Au-robindo’s evolutionary philosophical theory was that life emerged from primeval waters. Man is not the final product of that evolution. If we follow integral yoga, we can cooperate with the evolutionary process to arrive at that evolved being.

India’s plural nature itself was a contributing factor. Hence along with Mohan Mittal, we developed a global forum for interfaith and the circles were held in Chicago, Cape Town and elsewhere. It’s important to build understanding in these times for harmony and deeper understanding. And as chairperson of the Temple of Understanding, I have been temple building from Jammu to Yogaville in the US and a Nataraja temple in Tamil Nadu.

You’ve studied the Upanishad. What is their salient wisdom? Do you think the Upanishad have been overshadowed by the Gita in Hindu philosophy?

I’d say the Upanishad are the key to wisdom. The Gita is a derivative text of the Upanishad. Yes, the personality of Krishna has made it more prominent and it is more of an ‘action text’ that calls upon man to act. The Gita is shruti, to be heard; the Upanishad are smriti, to be remembered. It is important that these texts are rediscovered for their wisdom and beauty.

Looking back, how does Kashmir’s status as a contested zone strike you?

The Kashmir Valley has a special ambience. The Veda, Buddhism, Shaivites, Islam, Sufism, Sikhs have all converged here at one time or the other in its past. Today, the state of Jammu and Kashmir saddens me especially as we witness deliberate attempts to divide the people. It’s most sad and unfortunate.

In India do you find that public leaders tend to be older and the friction between younger and older generations is growing in modern times?

In India, respect for age has been built into our psyche. But it’s changing. We do see younger chief ministers coming into public life. It will take five to 10 years to mark a politician in India and he will, in all probability, be in his 50s when in power. Also, the young need to prove themselves. Our elderly population is growing. The Hindu system of the joint family is breaking down. We need better retirement homes suitable for all economic levels to take care of the elderly. The state and private companies must step in to fulfil this growing need.

You lead an active life at this age with your music and various commitments. How would you like to watch the sun set?

Age is inevitable. It’s not to be conquered by creams and anti-ageing lotions but cherished for its experience. My learning has been continuing. I do my riyaaz faithfully. At 80, I have discovered the joys of the iPad and it has opened new vistas for me. I think of each day as a blessing. Looking back, it has not been a meaningless journey from womb to tomb. I guess a persistent growth of consciousness keeps me active. I like to continue to stay involved, read, experience, laugh and engage.

Photo: Anshuman Akash Jha
Featured in Harmony — Celebrate Age Magazine
August 2012